A Poem for Mother's Day
You are mother to the universe and to the stars.
The trees and the flowers are your children.
You are a symbol of eternity, for you are immortal
Like the oceans, the lakes and the rivers.
The sun and the seasons are your children.
You give all and take nothing.
You are nature in its diversity and bounty.
You are fire, the eternal flame.
You are the lava and the volcano.
You are Mary, the Blessed One, mother of the Crucified,
Yet mother to no one, for she remained a virgin.
You are mother to all humanity,
And all creations are your children.
You need not be his mother to celebrate Mother’s Day,
For out of the womb came both Cain and Abel.
He came through you, but he is not from you.
You are the flute.
Do not blame the flute if the tune is dissonant,
For the wind that came through you vibrated with anger and inadequacy,
Yet the flute remains the source, the haven, and the treasure of goodness.
You, mother of humanity,
All nature celebrates with you.
You are the feast, the bride, and the immortal female.
You are wife, lover, temptress, friend, inspirer and mother.
You are the glorious woman: Venus, Athena, and Astarte.
You are love, compassion, and fury.
You are the Goddess of fertility, the rainmaker, and the medicine woman.
Blessed are you, the seat of Godliness.
At your feet, we all kneel and pray
And worship motherhood through your immortal eyes.
You are mother to the universe and to the stars.
The trees and the flowers are your children.
You are a symbol of eternity, for you are immortal
Like the oceans, the lakes and the rivers.
The sun and the seasons are your children.
You give all and take nothing.
You are nature in its diversity and bounty.
You are fire, the eternal flame.
You are the lava and the volcano.
You are Mary, the Blessed One, mother of the Crucified,
Yet mother to no one, for she remained a virgin.
You are mother to all humanity,
And all creations are your children.
You need not be his mother to celebrate Mother’s Day,
For out of the womb came both Cain and Abel.
He came through you, but he is not from you.
You are the flute.
Do not blame the flute if the tune is dissonant,
For the wind that came through you vibrated with anger and inadequacy,
Yet the flute remains the source, the haven, and the treasure of goodness.
You, mother of humanity,
All nature celebrates with you.
You are the feast, the bride, and the immortal female.
You are wife, lover, temptress, friend, inspirer and mother.
You are the glorious woman: Venus, Athena, and Astarte.
You are love, compassion, and fury.
You are the Goddess of fertility, the rainmaker, and the medicine woman.
Blessed are you, the seat of Godliness.
At your feet, we all kneel and pray
And worship motherhood through your immortal eyes.